Hear now the fifth and sixth chapters of the glorious Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, in the Bāla Kāṇḍa, as the ancient sage himself proclaims. Long ago, all this earth was ruled by mighty kings, those victorious in battle, their line beginning with Prajāpati himself. Among these illustrious monarchs was the renowned Sagara, famed for having dug the very ocean; as he journeyed, he was surrounded by his sixty thousand sons. From the lineage of these great-souled kings of the Ikṣvāku dynasty arose the wondrous tale now known as the Rāmāyaṇa. Let us now recount this entire story from its beginning, a tale woven with righteousness, desire, and wealth—a story to be heard without envy, for it brings virtue to those who listen. In those ancient times, there stood a city called Ayodhyā, celebrated throughout the world, founded by Manu, the lord of men, himself. This magnificent city stretched twelve yojanas in length and three in breadth, its main roads laid out with careful order. A grand royal road adorned Ayodhyā, always strewn with fresh flowers and sprinkled with cool water. Within this splendid city dwelled King Daśaratha, the increaser of his realm, just as the lord of the gods dwells in heaven. Ayodhyā was fortified with gates and archways, its marketplaces neatly divided, bustling with all kinds of machines, weapons, and artisans of every craft. Charioteers and bards crowded its streets, adding to its unmatched splendor; tall mansions and fluttering banners rose above, while engines of war stood ready. All around, troupes of actresses and dancers performed, and the city was adorned with gardens and mango groves, encircled by a thick belt of śāla trees. Deep and fortified moats guarded Ayodhyā, making it difficult for any enemy to approach. Its stables and streets were filled with horses, elephants, cattle, camels, and donkeys. Assemblies of vassal kings came to pay tribute, and merchants from many lands brought their wealth, beautifying the city. Palaces adorned with jewels rose like mountains, and lofty mansions filled Ayodhyā, making it shine like Amarāvatī, the city of Indra. The city’s layout was as precise as a chessboard, filled with noble women, every kind of jewel, and celestial mansions. Ayodhyā was a deep-rooted and unbroken abode, established on level ground, its granaries full of rice and barley, and its waters sweetened by sugarcane stalks. The city resounded with the music of drums, mridangas, veenas, and panavas, echoing across the earth. Like the celestial palace attained by the Siddhas through austerities in heaven, Ayodhyā’s dwellings were well-arranged and filled with noble men—archers who never missed their mark, whether at distant or close targets, skilled in striking by sound, whose hands were light and sure. Warriors, slayers of roaring lions, tigers, and wild boars in the forest, wielded sharp weapons and the strength of their arms. King Daśaratha filled his city with thousands of such great chariot-warriors. Surrounding Ayodhyā were fire-like, virtuous, and eminent twice-borns—masters of the six branches of the Vedas—along with thousands of truth-devoted souls and sages who resembled great rishis and pure ascetics. In that city, there lived one learned in the Vedas, possessing all knowledge, farsighted and brilliant, beloved by both citizens and country folk. Among the Ikṣvākus, he was a mighty charioteer, a sacrificer devoted to righteousness and self-control, a royal sage renowned throughout the three worlds, like a great rishi. Daśaratha was strong, a destroyer of enemies, friendly and master of his senses. In wealth and treasures, he was the equal of Indra and Kubera. Just as Manu, of great brilliance, protected the world, so did King Daśaratha safeguard his realm. By his truthful resolve and observance of the threefold aim of life—righteousness, desire, and wealth—he governed Ayodhyā as Indra governs Amarāvatī. In that foremost city, no one was poor; every householder was accomplished, possessing cows, horses, riches, and grain. There was no one desirous or miserly, nor anyone cruel, ignorant, or atheistic. All men and women were righteous in conduct, well-disciplined, joyful in character, and pure as great sages. No one lacked earrings, crowns, or garlands; none were deprived of enjoyment, unwashed, unadorned, or lacking in pleasant fragrance. No one ate unclean food, nor was there a non-giver; all wore armlets, necklaces, and hand ornaments, and all were self-controlled. None neglected their sacred fires or failed to perform sacrifices; there was no miser, thief, person of bad conduct, or one of mixed caste. The Brāhmaṇas were ever devoted to their duties, their senses mastered, practicing charity and study, restrained in accepting gifts. There was no atheist, no liar, no one lacking learning, no one envious, incapable, or unwise. All were versed in the six branches of knowledge, all observed vows, all were generous, and none were poor, disturbed, or afflicted. No man or woman lacked fortune or beauty, nor was there anyone lacking devotion to the king. Among the higher three castes, all worshipped gods and guests, were grateful, generous, heroic, and endowed with valor. Such was the glorious city of Ayodhyā, ruled by the noble Daśaratha, the jewel of the Ikṣvāku line, from whom this great and righteous story unfolds.